A sweeping account of one of the most dramatic military campaigns in history. Opening in 1811, when Napoleon was at the peak of his powers, it details the complicated series of events which led up to Napoleon’s 1812 march into Russia. Made famous particularly by Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace’ it is a campaign which has gone down in history as one of the great military disasters. It is largely the story of a huge power struggle between two arrogant, yet extremely able men – Napoleon and Alexander, the Russian Tsar. The speed with which they went from having a close friendship, formed during their talks at Tilsit in 1807, to becoming sworn enemies a few years later, is a fascinating story told with real panache by Zamoyski, and one which clearly exposes the best and the worst sides of Napoleon’s character. In one instance he is the all-powerful manipulator, twisting Alexander round his little finger and enthralling the Russian aristoracy. In the next, he is an angry, uncontrollable and somewhat pathetic figure, throwing furniture out of windows in reaction to Alexander’s letters detailing his refusal to cooporate with Napoleon’s increasingly difficult demands.

The campaign itself is described from the top level down to the experiences of the ordinary soldier. The seminal battle of Borodino in particular is described with real drama, and one really gets a sense of how Napoleon’s tactical brilliance was beginning to wane, costing the lives of many soldiers who might have otherwise been saved. But the most harrowing section of the book is the description of the long retreat from Moscow. It began as a strategic withdrawal, and ended up costing the lives of almost the entire French army as they battled through the arctic temperatures of the Russian winter. How any of them made it back at all is remarkable, and Zamoyski tells many incredible individual stories.

I’d recommend this book to anyone with even a passing interest in Napolenonic history, for it’s not only a detailed military history, but a genuinely gripping and dramatic read, filled with fascinating characters. Something that struck me in particular was how much of the events Zamoyski writes about had a direct link to the conflicts of the 20th century – for it was as a result of the 1812 campaign that Napoleon’s grip on Europe was weakened, and hence the modern Germany began to take shape. It is easy to see how the European superpowers soon became locked into uneasy alliances that were to have deadly consequences. This is the story of a true military catastrophe.

I stumbled into this new, unfortunately named comedy night with fairly low expectations. I’ve spent many a wasted evening sitting in damp pub cellars listening to average comedians flogging their jokes to death, so naturally expected more of the same. However, I was treated to an evening of generally excellent comedy, opening with a strong set from Junior Simpson who instantly charmed the crowd with his tale of smuggling a fruit salad into Australia. Phil Dinsdale followed with a comparatively average set until the evening peaked with the fantastic Carey Marx (pictured). I can’t recommend this guy strongly enough – he’s a gagsmith of the highest order. Baiting the audience into begging him to tell his new joke about rape, he coolly retorted “nah, you had to be there”. Masterful stuff. The evening then took another slight dip with the clearly nervous, if promising beginner Marlon Davis (who to be fair had an impossible job following Marx), before Paul Sinha rounded off with a consistently well-observed act based around the premise of being a butch asian homosexual in an increasingly confused world.

This is a promising comedy night in a great little venue, and if they sort the name out and find themselves a new compère they could be onto something.

Steve Coogan does anti-heroes like no-one else can. Alan Partridge is his most famous creation but I’d argue that with Tommy Saxondale, he’s more than matched him. Saxondale is a middle-aged ex-roadie running a pest control business. The perfect job, as it allows him to take out his innate anger issues on the pigeons, rodents, moths and bats he is variously employed to exterminate.

Now at the end of its second series, and richly meriting a third, Coogan’s latest creation has been steadily gathering speed. Rather than choose to unleash the series in a cloud of hype, the BBC have sensibly allowed it to mature quietly, allowing the dross that’s clogging up BBC3 to mop up most of the marketing budget (’Grown-ups’ anyone?). It still amazes me that many people still haven’t even heard of the programme, let alone seen it, but this only serves to greatly increase my enjoyment of it.

There’s a large number of people who refuse to let Steve Coogan grow out of Alan Partridge. But anyone that knows his work knows that he is one of the most dexterous comedians of our time – characters like Duncan Thicket, Paul Calf, Tony Ferrino and Ernest Moss are testament to that. And in the character of Tommy Saxondale he’s expertly captured the zeitgeist of the frustrated 70s rock child – the true ‘grumpy old man’. Saxondale is no fool – he’s witty, clever and at times even charming. But what he can’t do, as with all of Coogan’s greatest creations, is go with the flow. And I love him for it.

Having read Eric Schlosser’s non-fiction account of the gruesome truths of fast-food production (human limbs in the burgers et al…) I didn’t really know what to expect from a fictionalised film version. Or rather, I had some niggling doubts that it would struggle to knit together a cohesive narrative considering that the book is so reliant on bare journalistic fact as opposed to character or plot. And unfortunately I was right. The film starts promisingly enough, with Greg Kinnear’s ‘well-meaning but working for the man’ character Don heading to Colorado on behalf of a burger-chain to investigate the reason that faecal matter has been found in the meat. The air established is that of a Thankyou For Smoking-esque corporate conspiracy thriller, and audience interest is suitably piqued.

What Don encounters is a series of characters who are affected in various ways by the cruel conditions of the meat-packing factory (and hence the American corporate ‘machine’), from the abused Mexican workers to the teenagers manning the tills (and of course spitting in the burgers). And thrown in for good measure is a cameo by Bruce Willis, who manages to lend suitable menace to the character of Harry, the man who brokered the original deal between the burger-chain and the factory. A much more baffling cameo is made by pop-brat Avril Lavigne, who makes a complete idiot of herself trying to ‘get political’ about the welfare of cows (”why do the bad guys always win?” is about as deep as she can get). This obvious celebrity bandwagon-jumping does little to help the integrity of the narrative.

The script is inconsistent to say the least, prompting me to wonder whether half-way through the writer had been fired in favour of a teenage intern. It loses its way to the extent that the original message gets completely mangled (along with the poor old cows) and leaves you asking the question as to why they bothered to attempt such a pointless adaptation.